hour later, I’ve cooked nearly everything from the refrigerator and half the things from the freezer and packed them into a cooler. Falk didn’t have a lot of fresh food on hand, but it’s enough for a couple of days, and the idea of his freeze-dried meals isn’t all that appealing to me. I’ve also brewed some iced tea and poured it into thermoses.
As we make the final trip to the parking lot and Falk’s Subaru Forrester, I wonder how long it will take to get to Washington. It would be a long drive under normal circumstances, but if we have to find cars to siphon gas, it’s going to take a lot longer. What if we run out of gas altogether? Would we end up stuck somewhere? Or would Falk want to walk to Washington?
Falk climbs in and turns the key, but there is only a churning sound from the engine.
“What the fuck,” he mutters as he tries again with the same result. He gets out of the car, pops the hood, and pokes around.
“Is it the battery?” I ask as I open the door and peer around the hood.
“It sounds like it.” His eyes are narrowed as he looks around the parking lot. “I’ll have to try one of the others.”
Two hours later, I’m still sitting in the passenger seat while Falk tries to get yet another car started. He’d already tried hotwiring a couple of them without success, and then he’d broken into his neighbor’s apartments looking for keys. None of the cars had worked.
Falk climbs out of a Honda, slams his fist on the top of it, and then stalks back over to me.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“No fucking idea.” Falk takes a deep breath and stares off toward the road. “Give me some time to think.”
He leans against the car and rubs his fingers into his eyes. After a minute, he ducks into the car, reaches around me to the glove compartment, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He goes back to leaning on the car as he lights up and takes a long drag.
He’s silent, and I don’t want to interrupt his thinking as he smokes. I try to come up with ideas of my own, but the throbbing in my leg is distracting, and I really don’t have a clue what we should do. The silence in the parking lot is unnerving. There should be people walking around, kids playing at the pool, dogs barking.
“Falk?”
“Yeah?”
“Does your apartment complex allow pets?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, where are they?”
He glances around the area, cocks his head for a moment, and then looks back at me.
“I have no idea.”
I rub my hands up and down my arms as a chill runs through me. No women, children, or dogs. What about cats or other pets? I could hear the faint chirping of birds in the trees and the constant buzzing of insects, so there were some animals around. Why not dogs?
“There’s a shopping center less than a mile from here,” Falk says as he tosses the cigarette butt away. “Let me check on your leg—do you think you can walk that far? Then we can go stock up and see if we can find anyone.”
“I think I can,” I say. “How will we bring stuff back?”
“We’ll have to just bring what we can carry for now,” he says. “There are bound to be shopping carts or something we can use. I’ll figure out a better way later.”
Falk and I go back inside where he unwraps the bandage from my leg, cleans the wound again, and bandages it back up. It’s painful but not unbearable, so I decide I can make the trip. Despite Falk’s rather foul mood, I don’t like the idea of being left alone in his apartment.
We head off down the street with one of Falk’s rifles strapped over his shoulder. He keeps a slow pace so I can keep up as we make our way to the shopping center.
There is no sign of another living being, not even when we get to the main road. It’s slow going with my limping, and we have to dodge a lot of cars that have smashed into utility poles or are just parked up on the sidewalk, and there are bodies of men
As we make the final trip to the parking lot and Falk’s Subaru Forrester, I wonder how long it will take to get to Washington. It would be a long drive under normal circumstances, but if we have to find cars to siphon gas, it’s going to take a lot longer. What if we run out of gas altogether? Would we end up stuck somewhere? Or would Falk want to walk to Washington?
Falk climbs in and turns the key, but there is only a churning sound from the engine.
“What the fuck,” he mutters as he tries again with the same result. He gets out of the car, pops the hood, and pokes around.
“Is it the battery?” I ask as I open the door and peer around the hood.
“It sounds like it.” His eyes are narrowed as he looks around the parking lot. “I’ll have to try one of the others.”
Two hours later, I’m still sitting in the passenger seat while Falk tries to get yet another car started. He’d already tried hotwiring a couple of them without success, and then he’d broken into his neighbor’s apartments looking for keys. None of the cars had worked.
Falk climbs out of a Honda, slams his fist on the top of it, and then stalks back over to me.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“No fucking idea.” Falk takes a deep breath and stares off toward the road. “Give me some time to think.”
He leans against the car and rubs his fingers into his eyes. After a minute, he ducks into the car, reaches around me to the glove compartment, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He goes back to leaning on the car as he lights up and takes a long drag.
He’s silent, and I don’t want to interrupt his thinking as he smokes. I try to come up with ideas of my own, but the throbbing in my leg is distracting, and I really don’t have a clue what we should do. The silence in the parking lot is unnerving. There should be people walking around, kids playing at the pool, dogs barking.
“Falk?”
“Yeah?”
“Does your apartment complex allow pets?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, where are they?”
He glances around the area, cocks his head for a moment, and then looks back at me.
“I have no idea.”
I rub my hands up and down my arms as a chill runs through me. No women, children, or dogs. What about cats or other pets? I could hear the faint chirping of birds in the trees and the constant buzzing of insects, so there were some animals around. Why not dogs?
“There’s a shopping center less than a mile from here,” Falk says as he tosses the cigarette butt away. “Let me check on your leg—do you think you can walk that far? Then we can go stock up and see if we can find anyone.”
“I think I can,” I say. “How will we bring stuff back?”
“We’ll have to just bring what we can carry for now,” he says. “There are bound to be shopping carts or something we can use. I’ll figure out a better way later.”
Falk and I go back inside where he unwraps the bandage from my leg, cleans the wound again, and bandages it back up. It’s painful but not unbearable, so I decide I can make the trip. Despite Falk’s rather foul mood, I don’t like the idea of being left alone in his apartment.
We head off down the street with one of Falk’s rifles strapped over his shoulder. He keeps a slow pace so I can keep up as we make our way to the shopping center.
There is no sign of another living being, not even when we get to the main road. It’s slow going with my limping, and we have to dodge a lot of cars that have smashed into utility poles or are just parked up on the sidewalk, and there are bodies of men
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